Mulder, I miss you
by jessspider
Summary: Post Requiem vignette, Scully POV fic. Scully is pregnant, Mulder's been abducted, what is she feeling?


TITLE: Mulder, I miss you.  
>AUTHOR: Jesspider – aka Sasha aka spidereyes500<br>CATEGORY: S, A, V, Post EPISODE fic  
>SPOILERS: Requiem, a little on The Ghosts Who Stole Christmas<br>KEYWORDS: Mulder, Scully  
>SUMMARY: If Mulder and Scully were truly in love with each other before he disappeared, if the baby is Mulder's, then the Scully that we know would be emotional when she'd be at home alone, to say the very least.<br>AUTHOR'S NOTES: (first written in ~2002-3); I wanted to write a post episode piece that is perhaps for most persons a little untraditional with respect to Scully's character. But go with me here, I tried to put myself or anybody else in her shoes at the time and to diverge in order to try a little more realism in terms of the emotions that anyone might be conflicted with if they had lost their loved one. I've tried to write this looking at Mulder and Scully as unrequited loves, but then I thought to myself, nah, they definitely loved each other, and I'm of the opinion that something happened in ALL THINGS, to leave Scully pregnant. I also think that would explain M & S's closeness for each other in the episodes following that, particularly Mulder's concern and feelings towards Scully in Requiem. So with those thoughts in mind, this piece came up. I hope you enjoy, I wrote this as much for myself as I did for us fic readers.  
>Many thanks go to my sister Sam, to my friends, Lindsay Smith, and Beena Faridi who were patient enough to read my fanfic, guide and encourage me. <p>

Archived at Spooky Gossamer.

DISCLAIMER: Mulder and Scully, The X-files, all belong to CC, 1013 productions and the Fox Corporation, and no infringement is intended in using them for fanfic purposes. Please don't sue, I'm just a lowly writer devoted to the X-files.

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Oh Mulder. MULDER!

Why did you have to leave me?

Do you honestly believe that I can go on without you? Because if you do , then you're as foolish as I thought you were when I first met you, and naive as hell. Determined and bull-headed. Oh God, but I love you so much. I miss you so much it hurts. I know I have to be strong but I can't see for the life of me how I can possibly go on without you. I'm so furious. I'm so frustrated and so helpless at the same time.

This is not the Dana Scully that you know. I know that. You would know that if only you were here to see that for yourself. I've turned into a wreck . No body knows this except the four walls of my home. Oh God Mulder. I can't breathe anymore. I'm so angry. I'm so angry at you for going to check things out when you did, but at the same time I know that it's not your fault. How can it be? I know it sounds like I blame you, but I don't blame you. I'd never blame you. I'm just hurting inside, missing you like...I'd miss my sight if it were gone. In one sense I've lost my sight. You were my sight Mulder, you opened my eyes to extremes.

I don't know what to do or how to feel when I go into your office, our office to work. I sit at your desk, and go through this ritual every morning. I hold your name plate, fingering the letters FOX MULDER, thinking of you with your big feet propped up on your desk as you lay back in your swivel seat. It brings a small smile to my face. After studying your poster I close my eyes. I want to believe that you will be here with me with me when I next open them. Tears will fall from them while I search for tissues to dry them away. Nobody can know my grief, it would make me weaker if they found out. I would rise from my seat, try to walk around, looking at everything on your shelf again and again. Walking around the room I would always end up at the slide machine. I'd let out a breathy laugh, tinged with a sob as I'd imagine you and all the times you demonstrated cases with your slide show. I have to smile at the thought of you trying to get my attention on those computer generated crop circles. Oh God Mulder, what I wouldn't do to listen to one of those now, I'm so sorry, I wish I could be like you in your enthusiasm sometimes.

And now, I'm lost. I don't know what to do when I get home nowadays back from work. You're not there with me watching one of those old black and whites of yours that you've brought for the evening. You're not sharing my sofa with me. You're not eating dinner with me Mulder. I can't breathe, because you're not here breathing with me. I want to see the rise and fall of your chest Mulder, but you're not here breathing with me.

I'd give anything to have you here besides me. Thwacking me with my favourite cushion. Talking about the recent case we were just on. You telling me that I have to think of every possibility. Teaching me each time to trust my instincts, to look in different directions. And while you teach me Mulder, I'd be watching you silently with my heart. Absorbing you, your beautiful mind into mine. Your brainwaves feeding me with extreme possibilities not unlike those that I would be investigating with you, the extreme possibility of an us, something I'd never regret investigating with you. You're lips, I can just see them in my mind's eye right now. Oh Mulder. I wish you were here, oh please *please* be here. All my pleading in the world seems futile, especially when noone can hear me, especially if you can't hear me. There's no one else here. You are everything I want, everything I need. And you're gone. Gone. It's as good as death Mulder. But I have to believe that you are going to come back to me. I hope that I mean that much to you to come back to me.

I remember your words Mulder. And you are my touchstone. I can't be in existence without my constant.

I can smell you still lingering on my work clothes. When you told me that you couldn't lose me, you looked so silently hopeful, almost pleading with me to understand. You had the determination to make sure that I wouldn't go any further with you. But in your eyes I could see into the depths of that beautiful fearful soul of yours. That losing me was more than you could bear. How ironic that I've lost you. That I'm the one bearing that loss, the pain you didn't want to go through again with my loss.

I didn't want you going alone. Why did I let you go even with somebody besides you. I want to blame myself for your abduction. I had a feeling you were leaving me. The foreboding shadowy presence of a time of difficulty and danger ahead. I knew, and yet I didn't want to believe, couldn't accept that feeling, that possibility. I should have listened to myself. Because now you're gone. And I'm here alone in my quiet apartment, lying on my quiet sofa crying silent tears. I know my eyes are red, but noone will know. My lung muscles ache from my earlier violent sobbing. Breathing for myself is so difficult without you Mulder.

Narcissistic, I smile to myself. I want those paramastabatory illusions of yours back. I can still remember you telling me about it. Oh Mulder, I have to find you. I will find you.

And now? I have to make myself breathe, because there's a little life inside of me. A little hope that's telling me that I need to hold up for this little future. That there's this tiny possibility that I can go on with just my memories of you, that as long as I remember that a part of you is always with me anything can survive. The future can exist. That we can survive..this baby and me. Our baby and you.


End file.
